Ilya continued to side-eye Jack in curious scrutiny, raising her shoulder as his hand was removed as if it was sore from physical touch. She dispatched and chewed her worm candies for a long minute in silence; precisely biting each worm and dissecting one color from the other, inwardly coming to the decree that American candy wasn't as first-rate and ace as its reputation swore.
"It's not a bad way to live, right? I can't imagine being holed up in some United Kingdom suburbia with a husband and baby on the way or summin' -- and Gods, that seems like the current, trending thing for twenty-four year olds--" And Ilya was swiftly stopped by the abrupt and disconcerting sound of gun shots sounding in her ears, and Jack wasn't bothered. Was this man a literal robot disguised as a teenager with a sweet-tooth? What was this, a graphic novel?
Ilya had risen from the floor suddenly and clumsily, giving Carl one last look of disapproval before darting through the entrance. The bell rang noisily, echoing her departure.
Last Edit: Apr 5, 2016 17:14:55 GMT -5 by Ilyα Cяσw
"I do not want to be human - I want to be myself. They think I am a lion, that I will chase them. I will not deny I have lions in me. I am the monster in the wood. I have wonders in my house of sugar. I have parts of myself I do not yet understand."
Jack is an average, unassuming guy. He stands bashfully, avoiding eye contact as he looks around at everything except the person he's speaking with. A closer look. however, will reveal more.
Beneath this carefully neutral appearance, Jack's body is lean and efficient. He's slow to anger and behind his bashful demeanor is an assertive individual observing his environment with an almost predatory nature.
Post by Jacksoπ Flεtchεr on Apr 5, 2016 17:56:55 GMT -5
Jack shrugged, trying to think of a time he'd ever considered living his life any other way. "I honestly don't even know what a life like that would be like. Beyond the limits of my knowledge and imagination, I s'pose." The young man wondered what it would be like to wake up in the same neighborhood every day and see the same people, talk with the same friends, buy candy from the same store. It sounded kind of boring, but hopefully less bloody.
"Hey, it's not safe out there!" When Ilya climbed to her feet and moved to head outside, Jack went after her, keeping up fairly easy. He hadn't been planning on interfering with whatever was going outside, considering he was on break and all, but since things seemed to be heading that way the young man readied himself for some magical mayhem.
Once they got outside, the two would see four men. Two were dragging away the sobbing father of the family that had exited the store just a few moments ago, their backs to the store. The fourth man was stepping over the bodies of the young boy and his mother, preparing to enter the store and eliminate any potential witnesses. All of three of the assailants were masked but the surprise was clear in the eyes of the one who saw them, giving them a moment to react before he raised his gun.
Jack fiddled with it, ensuring it wouldn't fire, making the gun seem like it had jammed and prepared to do the same to the other two if they abandoned the father to attack as well.
Ilya was never particularly strategic in quarrelsome situations. Her eyes rested on the limp, grisly corpse of the adolescent and the space between her brows trembled in a veiled twitch of animosity. Her lashes fluttered ever so slightly as she set her attention on the man who very certainly intended to hurt them -- them being her and Jack, respectively. Her hands rose, palms facing forward, as she gradually approached him in slow and measured steps. Ilya was completely and thankfully self-aware of her outer innocuous and harmless demeanor: petite, fair.
And before this horror of a man parted his lips to speak something sickening - or even better - pierce Ilya's unforgiving frame with a bullet, she would make the effort to disarm him with every bit of vigor she had, as she was taught. She took a crack at clutching the man's arm by his wrist and twisting the firearm downward, surely breaking the trigger finger in that motion. If she had succeeded, she would completely remove the gun from his person and hurl the weapon in Jack's direction - knowing, of course, nothing of his abilities and yet relying heavily on his skill or lack thereof in pistols - and retrieving a small and yet alarming dirk from the seam of her bra to press against the pulse of the man's neck. While and if doing so, Ilya would drive her weight against the mass of his body and turn him like a meat shield against any possible firing of the others' weaponry, her knife at the layer of an artery.
Regaining her breath and composure, the blonde hissed through her teeth, "Don't move, mate."
OOC note: If I did anything terribly wrong, you have full permission to smite me.
Last Edit: Apr 6, 2016 1:03:29 GMT -5 by Ilyα Cяσw
"I do not want to be human - I want to be myself. They think I am a lion, that I will chase them. I will not deny I have lions in me. I am the monster in the wood. I have wonders in my house of sugar. I have parts of myself I do not yet understand."
Jack is an average, unassuming guy. He stands bashfully, avoiding eye contact as he looks around at everything except the person he's speaking with. A closer look. however, will reveal more.
Beneath this carefully neutral appearance, Jack's body is lean and efficient. He's slow to anger and behind his bashful demeanor is an assertive individual observing his environment with an almost predatory nature.
Post by Jacksoπ Flεtchεr on Apr 5, 2016 19:55:23 GMT -5
The man brought up his gun and attempted to shoot Ilya. When nothing happened he cursed and started fumbling with the weapon, trying to fix whatever was wrong with it. Being approached by a young woman, he didn't seem to concerned, obviously not feeling at all threatened by Ilya. Once he noticed she'd gotten awfully close, he began to say something but was quickly cut off by her attack.
Crying out as his finger was broken and the gun was wrenched from his grasp, the man was caught completely off guard. Whatever he'd been expecting to happen, having his gun taken away and ending up with a uncomfortably sharp blade to his throat definitely wasn't it. Meanwhile, Jack bent down and scooped up the gun and coolly pointed it toward the other two who'd just shoved the dad into the trunk of their car.
Everyone froze for a moment, the other two men looking awfully confused as best Jack could tell, considering the masks they were wearing. Then the shooting started. Jack made sure to tug the guns of the other two upward just enough so they wouldn't actually hit anything, while correcting the error he'd caused in his own gun. Firing back calmly, the young man got off a lucky shot that sent one man down, clutching at his chest while the other dove into the driver's seat and peeled off.
Jack turned toward Ilya to see how she was looking, knowing she'd be physically unharmed but possibly a bit shaken up. "You ok?"
Ilya still had her knife pressed to the man's jugular when Jack had posed a question for her. Her eyes were locked on his own and she murmured something inaudible to him before pressing the the blade against his neck in a gradual manner and pushing off of his writhing body, which would in turn fall helplessly to the ground. Ilya chucked the knife as far as her strength allowed and placed trembling hands on her waist, sparing a single glance in the direction of the child's body. "Fuck."
"I'm fine," She said finally, wiping the glistening sweat of her forehead with the end of her blouse. She was shaken -- not by anything but the lifeless remains of something as innocent and short lived as a toddler, but she did not allow that to effect her external appearance beyond the quivering of her limbs. Ilya then scouted the direction the car went with eyes narrowed into daggerish slits.
"Are you fine?" She then asked in genuine concern, pivoting to face Jack although she was some distance away from him.
"I do not want to be human - I want to be myself. They think I am a lion, that I will chase them. I will not deny I have lions in me. I am the monster in the wood. I have wonders in my house of sugar. I have parts of myself I do not yet understand."
Jack is an average, unassuming guy. He stands bashfully, avoiding eye contact as he looks around at everything except the person he's speaking with. A closer look. however, will reveal more.
Beneath this carefully neutral appearance, Jack's body is lean and efficient. He's slow to anger and behind his bashful demeanor is an assertive individual observing his environment with an almost predatory nature.
Post by Jacksoπ Flεtchεr on Apr 5, 2016 20:55:53 GMT -5
The young man watched her with some concern. Ilya had told him that she was fine but Jack could tell from her body language that she was at least a little shaken, if not by the violence then by the body of the young boy who'd been murdered, having seen her glance at the corpse more than once now. But perhaps her quivering was just from the adrenaline. He didn't really know her well enough to say which for sure.
Jack on the other hand was, sadly, desensitized to such horrors. Sadness was evident in the furrow of his brow but, more than anything, the young man seemed to look somewhat tired. He spent enough time around the dead and this wasn't how he'd envisioned things playing out during his break. "I'll be alright," He told her, glancing at the bodies. The young man shook his head and sighed. "Such needless violence. Why do you think they did it? Why'd they take the dad?" Jack had a feeling that things were only going to get even more unpleasant if they started pulling at threads but fuck it. He was already caught up.
"Perhaps we should ask him," Jack jerked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the masked man he'd shot in the chest who happened to still be breathing, though he'd probably bleed out soon.
"Business errors, revenge, homosexual lover -- who knows?" Ilya panted out, taking control of her breathing and resting her body entirely, releasing her from her trembling disdain. She, unlike Jack, did not look death in the eye and think mildly -- with a child or otherwise. She was sensitive, as artists commonly were, but found no muse nor poetic consolation in the mess that this was. A typical, susceptible human. This was far from her usual stunt of getting strangers intoxicated.
"You ask him. I'd likely gut the piece of shit after one exchange of words," She countered coolly, teeth grinding together as the faint song of police sirens rang in her eardrums -- nice going, Carl. Ilya peered over Jack and then looked to the pavement, her teeth now grazing her bottom lip for the dried skin that inhabited it. Her lip bled scarcely as she thought over how certain she was that Jack had little to no reaction to what just happened. What the hell is wrong with this guy, I mean, really?
The sirens grew less faint and Ilya felt her nerves accrue in her throat like lost words. She punctured a man's artery, Jack shot someone and there were three, nearly four dead bodies at this cursed service station. Truly, Ilya was not anticipating a visit to a police station during her first stay in America for something like murder.
"I do not want to be human - I want to be myself. They think I am a lion, that I will chase them. I will not deny I have lions in me. I am the monster in the wood. I have wonders in my house of sugar. I have parts of myself I do not yet understand."
Jack is an average, unassuming guy. He stands bashfully, avoiding eye contact as he looks around at everything except the person he's speaking with. A closer look. however, will reveal more.
Beneath this carefully neutral appearance, Jack's body is lean and efficient. He's slow to anger and behind his bashful demeanor is an assertive individual observing his environment with an almost predatory nature.
Post by Jacksoπ Flεtchεr on Apr 6, 2016 5:33:15 GMT -5
Jack cocked his head in the direction of the sirens before frowning down at the gun in his hand. He would have to leave before the police showed up, not wanted to have to explain away how bad the situation looked. The young man was holding the weapon that had been used to kill a woman and a child and, to make matters worse, he'd fired it. Sure, he had Ilya as a witness that he hadn't done anything outside self defense when the same men who'd attacked the family had attacked them, but Jack wasn't too particularly looking forward to being arrested on account of some random incident.
Figuring he ought to talk to the man quickly, Jack walked over to where the man he'd shot lay gasping for breath. The young man took stock of the injury while he kicked the masked man's dropped weapon well out of reach. He'd likely die without immediate medical attention. Jack pulled the man's mask off, revealing the face of a scared teenager in over his head.
He hesitated only for a moment before beginning his questioning. Jack wanted to know why, why take the dad, why kill the family. This wasn't just some mugging gone wrong. At first, he didn't want to answer but Jack proved persuasive in his use of pain accompanied by a promise of medical attention.
After having his injuries prodded a couple of times, the kid confessed that his bosses wanted to make an example of the father for some reason or other and that people were looking for him all over the state. He didn't know what the man had done, but figured it had been pretty bad. They were supposed to rendezvous with some others at a safehouse outside the city.
With a sigh, Jack stood up and walked back over to Ilya, ignoring the pleas of the wounded man. He didn't have very much mercy in his heart for people like that and, even if he wanted to help, there wasn't a whole lot he could do. The sirens were growing louder by the second.
"Well, I know where they took the dad. Are you sticking around for the cops?" Jack asked, tucking his borrowed gun away into his waistband.
"Mm, no -- I'd rather not get arrested, Jack," Ilya replied quickly, her combat boots grinding against the loose gravel of the concrete as she made way to her rental car. She consciously made the decision to let Jack drive, turning her torso and launching a single car key in his direction. She had a habit of doing that, obviously -- chucking random objects at Jack when she saw fit, but she sincerely did not want to drive that backwards American vehicle. Ilya hastily slid herself into the passenger seat before even knowing if he caught it.
"I swear to Gods, if this makes me wanted in this country I'm swimming to France. I am swimming to France, Jack," Ilya would announce as Jack entered the vehicle -- theatrics at their finest, that Ilya Crow. She guided her knees against her chest upon the the seat and rested her chin on them, not bothering with a seat-belt. She had her mind on other things, respectively.
"I do not want to be human - I want to be myself. They think I am a lion, that I will chase them. I will not deny I have lions in me. I am the monster in the wood. I have wonders in my house of sugar. I have parts of myself I do not yet understand."
Jack is an average, unassuming guy. He stands bashfully, avoiding eye contact as he looks around at everything except the person he's speaking with. A closer look. however, will reveal more.
Beneath this carefully neutral appearance, Jack's body is lean and efficient. He's slow to anger and behind his bashful demeanor is an assertive individual observing his environment with an almost predatory nature.
Post by Jacksoπ Flεtchεr on Apr 6, 2016 15:29:07 GMT -5
Not getting arrested seemed pretty sensible, the young man agreed. He wasn't particularly expecting her to toss the car key at him so all the young man noticed was a blur headed straight for his face. Jack moved to the side slightly and it sailed by, missing him. I hope she's not gonna make a habit of this, Jack thought to himself. Frowning, he walked over to the key and picked it up, discerning that Ilya expected him to drive. Oh well. It was her funeral.
"I'm sure that won't be necessary. This a rental?" Jack asked as he climbed into the driver's seat. He then proceeded to adjust everything so he was comfortable before starting the car. The young man began to peel out of the parking lot when he noticed that he'd forgotten the seatbelt, so naturally he fumbled with that using one hand while he straightened out the car and it began screeching down the road that would ultimately take them to the bad guys. Click! That done, Jack put both hands to the wheel for about a second before he starting messing around with the radio, swerving a bit as he did so.
"Crap. I don't know any good stations down here. Do you?" There were, like, 50 country stations and nothing good was on.
"Jack," Ilya started in a low and concerning tone of voice, her facial features befalling to something especially serious; it was as if she was readying herself and him for a weighted secret or dreadful piece of news to be shared. "Jack," She repeated, resting a solitary hand lightly upon his shoulder as he effortlessly swerved, "I have been in this Gods damn state for two hours. What makes you think I would know the radio stations, or even better -- purchase a car?"
Her cover ruined, she broke into a stupid, lop-sided grin and leaned back into her seat. Ilya was fluent in sarcasm, it seemed, but she meant no harm; firmly attempting to raise their spirits since, well, she did just witness the murder of a family and other questionable sorts. The hand on Jack's shoulder went to fumble aimlessly with the radio's dial -- country, country, country, mariachi music, more country, a single mainstream pop station that made her nose scrunch into a look of disgust -- and what was this, classic rock? Zeppelin would do.
Ilya hummed along, eyes on the dashboard. She turned up the air conditioning and wondered to herself what was to happen next.
"I do not want to be human - I want to be myself. They think I am a lion, that I will chase them. I will not deny I have lions in me. I am the monster in the wood. I have wonders in my house of sugar. I have parts of myself I do not yet understand."
Jack is an average, unassuming guy. He stands bashfully, avoiding eye contact as he looks around at everything except the person he's speaking with. A closer look. however, will reveal more.
Beneath this carefully neutral appearance, Jack's body is lean and efficient. He's slow to anger and behind his bashful demeanor is an assertive individual observing his environment with an almost predatory nature.
Post by Jacksoπ Flεtchεr on Apr 6, 2016 16:07:58 GMT -5
"Hey, how could I know if I didn't bother to ask? Besides, you totally could've 'borrowed' this form someone, for all I know," The young man said, somewhat defensively. He'd figured it was a rental but decided to ask anyways, just making small talk. Ilya reached over to mess around with the radio, too. Eventually she found a rock station. It wasn't his favorite, but it was something Jack could live with. At least for a little while.
"Do you want me to drop you off at a truck stop or bus station or airport or whatever? Imma go after that loser from earlier. You know, the one who got away." That last bit was a little muffled by the mass of candy Jack had shoved in his mouth, but the words were clear enough. He was asking her if she was up for a little more blood on her hands tonight.
Jack tapped the one hand he was actually driving with against the steering wheel along with the music. The young man figured he'd give Ilya plenty of chances to walk away. After all, the fewer people who knew what he did and how he could do it the better.
"I am a car thief and a cold-blooded murderer, right?" Ilya counters with a heavy roll of her eyes, pausing her jovial bickering for an air drum solo amidst the song -- it was necessary for a classic, right? Ba-dum, dum-dum da-dum, mediocre sound effects fly from Ilya like a human stereo. She then took on a look of utter objection at his offer.
"No way, Jack -- no. I'm apart of this, too, so you're not getting rid of me. Besides, I'm liable for the car, and I'd be appropriately guilty if I were to never see you again, since you could've died or something. Even worse, you rolled up to me a year later in some unplanned country with both legs missing." She pauses and cringing ensues. "No, thank you. How terrifyin'."
She rolled her window down and her eyes fluttered shut, the breeze from the moving car being more prosperous at cooling her body than the car. Her trusses whirled wildly against the current and her hand hung limply out, riding the wind like the tide, tucking in the back of her mind all the different conclusions of what was going to happen in the back of her mind.
"I do not want to be human - I want to be myself. They think I am a lion, that I will chase them. I will not deny I have lions in me. I am the monster in the wood. I have wonders in my house of sugar. I have parts of myself I do not yet understand."
Jack is an average, unassuming guy. He stands bashfully, avoiding eye contact as he looks around at everything except the person he's speaking with. A closer look. however, will reveal more.
Beneath this carefully neutral appearance, Jack's body is lean and efficient. He's slow to anger and behind his bashful demeanor is an assertive individual observing his environment with an almost predatory nature.
Post by Jacksoπ Flεtchεr on Apr 6, 2016 17:30:04 GMT -5
"Well, I wouldn't know, now would I?" Jack shrugged, staring at particularly weird tree they passed on the side of the road. It looked like it had a face carved into its bark, a face that was totally watching him. Well, they'd passed it so it wouldn't be watching him anymore. He glanced at the rear view mirror, just to be sure, and almost jumped out of the car when he saw another carved face on that side, too.
"If you insist, then. Don't have to worry about me, though. I can take care of myself." The young man took one hand from the wheel to flex his arm, demonstrating his strength and therefore how well he could take care of himself. "If he's got buddies, which he most likely will, you might have to kill some more people. Maybe a lot more. Can you handle that?" Jack glanced at Ilya out of the corner of his eye. He was used to bloodshed, but knew a lot of people were hesitant to get their hands dirty. Self defense like at the store was one thing, cold blooded murder was another.
"And don't blame me if you are the one who ends up maimed or killed."
"I can take care of myself, thanks -- but your concern is rightfully flattering, Jack. This truly feels like a beautiful, bloomin' friendship," Ilya snapped back at him, brimming with cheeky snark. A badly delivered gun-shot sound left her lips as he flexed and yet another eye-roll occurred. She didn't mind his company -- really, she didn't, and the killing was for a good cause (right, Ilya? Right?). Ilya was thoughtful of her decisions and wasn't bloodthirsty in the slightest. She did, however, respect that the shedding of innocent life required retaliation. They were driving vigilante-status. She flexed her bicep at Jack in rebound, which was - surprisingly - varnished in muscle. It was the dead-eye in her.
Ilya turned her head and attention forward as she thought over his question -- only having paid little thought to it for sake of not psyching herself into a fearful abdication. She smiled, barely visible, and expresses, "I can handle it. Have a wee bit of faith in me, yeah? Those Scots are wild, I hear."
"I do not want to be human - I want to be myself. They think I am a lion, that I will chase them. I will not deny I have lions in me. I am the monster in the wood. I have wonders in my house of sugar. I have parts of myself I do not yet understand."